Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Jamaica and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing kango's stein massive to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Eddi Front,
Connie Case,
Michelle Simonal,
Mo-Dettes,
Ten City,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell,
Soft Cell,
Pere Ubu,
Yusef Lateef,
Eurythmics,
Bauhaus,
Schoolly D,
Thompson Twins,
Kurtis Blow,
Crooked Eye,
MDC,
The Searchers,
The Kinks,
John Foxx,
Faust,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
The Evens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Unwound,
Half Japanese,
Mandrill,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Subhumans,
Pagans,
Hot Snakes,
Agitation Free,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Darondo,
Mark Hollis,
Babytalk,
Roxy Music,
Cecil Taylor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Selecter,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
H. Thieme,
Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Wings,
Sugar Minott,
Silicon Teens,
KRS-One,
Lee Hazlewood,
Howard Jones,
Grey Daturas,
Junior Murvin,
Donald Byrd,
The Stooges,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.